


Painted Walls

by beaniebopbaby



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:47:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28222656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beaniebopbaby/pseuds/beaniebopbaby
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Kudos: 1





	Painted Walls

July 2002

Harry Styles was an incredibly tender-hearted kid. At the sweet age of eight, he’d just about cry anytime something happened; knees that got bruised and bloodied from tripping over a piece of chalk he left out, ice cream that melted too fast and left his hands sticky, when his mum came home from work, when his sister wouldn’t let him in her room. He’d cry and his mum would hold him. That’s just how he was raised. He was soft, sweet. Always polite, always just so soft.

Louis Tomlinson was raised with the attempt to instill the value of masculinity. He was raised with all girls and often heard the term man of the house tossed at him, even from strangers he didn’t know. He didn’t understand what exactly it meant to be a man, much less the man. But he did know what whenever he tried to play Barbies with his sisters, his stepdad picked him up and placed him in his blue room with his blue clothes with his blue toy trucks. He did understand that when he once tried to put on his sister’s pink sparkly dress, he was told that boys don’t wear those clothes.

When Harry saw that a boy, who looked to be around his age was moving in across the street, tears ran down his cheeks from joy. He was so excited to have someone to play with his age. Gemma was starting to spend more and more time talking on the phone, and less time watching movies with him. 

He sat on the back of the couch the entire time they moved in, the fabric leaving little stripes on his skin and watched until his mom got home. He saw that this feathered headed boy had a box labeled toys and he couldn’t help but let himself wonder what kind of stuff he had in there.

Did he like trains? ‘Cause Harry had quite a few he could show him. Or maybe he could finally show someone that his mum let him keep three of Gem’s barbies when she decided to throw them out since she was too big for them, Harry thought.

Harry bounced around excitedly, begging his mom to let him go across the street and meet the new neighbors. He emphasized neighbors, plural, to his mom. But in reality, he was only interested in meeting the one; the chestnut haired, tanned boy wearing orange stripped shorts. 

“It’s only the polite thing to do, you said we should always be kind and polite no matter what.” Harry flashed his mum the biggest smile he could. 

“Love, we should probably let them settle in a bit, don’t you think? You did say the just moved in after all.” 

“Could they settle in with some brownies we make them? Please? Please, mum, please?” 

Anne couldn’t say no to those dimples. She was weak to them. 

So, Harry scooted his stool over to the counter and stood on his tip toes while he mixed flour and cocoa powder and sugar. When Anne turned around, Harry snuck extra chocolate chips into the left corner piece. He promised to remember to give that one to the boy that he wanted to make his new best friend. 

He kept his eye on the piece as Anne cut them, placed them in a Tupperware box, and memorized its placement as he held his mum’s hand and crossed the street to the big green house with lots of trees and a white fence.

He knocked on the door first. 

And much to his pure enjoyment, the boy answered the door. It took everything in Harry to not burst into tears right there.

“Mum,” he shouted, tossing his head back. “There are people at the door.”

Harry extended his hand, perky, and chubby, and dimpled. “Hi,” he said, proudly. “I live across the street. My name is Harry. Do you wanna be friends?” Harry was so proud of himself for saying that, he had practiced it in his head while he made brownies. 

Harry heard some crying in the background. Then a nice-looking woman came to the door to stand behind her son, one child on her hip and the other wrapped around her leg. “Hi there, I’m Jay. Nice to meet you.” 

The boy stared at Harry’s outstretched hand. “I’m Louis. You’re kinda weird,” he said. Harry thought he really mucked that up. “Can he come in?” Louis looked back at his mum.

“Sure, love. For a bit, til your dad gets home for dinner. Would you like to come in?” Jay asked Harry’s mum. 

“Sure, we just brought over these brownies. Harry helped me make them.” As Harry and his mother stepped inside the lively house, he reached up to take the container out of his mum’s hands. Then he located the special brownie, the one with extra chocolate chips, and reached out to give it to Louis.

“This one’s for you, Louis.” 

“Did you like poison it or something?”

“Louis!” His mother scolded him. “Say thank you.”

“Thanks, come see my new room.” Louis was already walking up the stairs, shoving bits of brownie in his mouth. He expected Harry to follow him, and he did.  
At this point, Harry was incredibly overwhelmed. That didn’t go how he planned at all. He did his best to not cry and he bounded up the steps and followed Louis into the room he disappeared into. But tears always came very easily to Harry. They flowed slowly down his brightly flushed cheeks.

“Are you crying?” Louis asked, once he turned around.

“N-no.” Harry stammered in response. 

“Are you like six or something?” 

“No!” Harry replied, offended, over his sobs. “I’m eight.” Harry’s nose started to run, just as the tears did down his cheeks.

“Well, you’re crying more than my sister and she’s three.” Louis stated matter-of-factly. He sat on the bottom bunk of this sturdy but old wooden bunkbed. There were no sheets on the mattress and that made Harry uncomfortable. “Come, sit.”

Harry obliged and sat next to Louis on the barren mattress. Louis picked up a piece of brownie and he fed it to Harry. “That better?” Louis asked. Harry nodded, the chocolate coating his tongue. 

“Yeah, people always cry when they’re hungry. Have the rest.” 

Harry ate the rest of Louis’ brownie while Louis chatted. Louis could talk a lot. He told Harry that he moved because his dad, who was his stepdad but he called him his dad because he loved him, got a new job here and that this house was much bigger than his old house where he had to share a room with the babies sometimes, if they didn’t sleep with his mum. But he didn’t really mind because he loved them and could help and because that room was bigger than this one. He was thinking of painting the walls, maybe. But he didn’t know yet.

He asked Harry if he had any ideas.

“I don’t know, my walls are white.”

“That’s boring,” Louis insisted. “You should paint them.”

“What if I paint them, then I get tired of the color?”

Louis looked right into Harry’s big eyes. They were still a little red and glassy from when he cried. But they were light emerald, golden and blue flecks exploded around his iris like fireworks. “Some colors you never get tired of.”

Harry’s mum called for him from the foot of the steps. It was time to go. “Do you want to play tomorrow?” Harry asked, he reached his hand out again, to say goodbye.

“Stop putting your hand out like that. I’ll ask about to tomorrow, but don’t call it playing. I’m ten, not a baby.” 

“Uh, okay.” Harry dropped his hand by his side, he left to walk back across the street with his mom.

“Was Louis nice, baby?”

“No, he was rude. But it’s okay. I’m going to make him my best friend.”

August 2002

The week before school starts, Harry finally managed to convince his mum to let him paint the walls of his bedroom. He thoroughly picked out the color, he put a lot of thought into it. His mum brought home a bunch of paint swatches and he taped them to his walls and stared at them for an hour.  
He had to get this right.

He went with a pastel yellow. It was soft and warm at the same time, it looked how the sun felt against your skin if you laid a field of soft grass in spring. It looked like a piece of Juicy Fruit gum, Harry’s favorite. It was the color of a hug from a friend and a smile and purity. He was also pretty sure his mum had a sweater that color. 

He ran down the stairs, paint swatch clutched in his fingers and told his mom that this was the one! 

Anne bought the paint and rollers and on her next off day, she gave Harry a pair of old overalls of Gemma’s. They played Shania Twain and Stevie Nicks, music blasting from the large CD player his mom brought into his room. They danced and painted and laughed. Harry decided that this was the best day of his entire life.  
Because that day he fell in love with a bunch of things. He fell in love with music. And how you can play it so loud that you literally cannot hear yourself think or hear your voice singing with it. And dancing around in socks, he fell in love with that too. He fell in love with those blue jean overalls so much that he asked to wear them as for his first day of school outfit. He fell in love with the pale, yellow paint that covered his walls. 

Because he realized that home was a feeling, he fell in love with that day.

The next day, Louis came over. Harry wanted to show him the color that he painted his walls.

At first, Louis just ran right into the room. Harry didn’t think that he even looked at the paint. He went straight for the CD player in the room, flipping through the CDs his mum let him have from her collection. “Um, Lou Lou.” Harry said, impatiently.

He was upset because he painted his walls because Louis gave him the idea. He flipped over paint swatches and checked them in every single possible lighting because Louis brought up painting the walls. And he didn’t even notice.

When Harry came into Louis’ room after he painted his walls a deep forest green that looked the way velvet felt, Harry complimented it for hours. Louis didn’t even look up!

“Yeah, Harry?”

“I painted my walls!” Louis finally looked at the walls. His eyes squinted and he leaned in.

“Ah, sorry. Couldn’t even tell. That’s a super light color.”

“Well, do you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s alright.” 

Now, Harry was upset. It was alright? How could Louis say that about the color he spent so much time picking?

In the short month that the two boys have been friends, Louis had already been able to develop almost a sixth sense for when Harry was upset. 

Well, actually, Harry thought he had a sixth sense for it. 

In reality, Louis just kind of assumed that Harry was in a perpetual state of being upset. But Louis also thought that anyone who was that pure and precious should be happy and anyone with dimples like those shouldn’t hide them behind tears. So, he spent a lot of time thinking of how he could improve Harry’s mood. 

Like one time, Harry came over upset because Gem didn’t want to hang out with him and slammed her bedroom door in his face. Louis told Harry that he had glow in the dark stars that he had been meaning to hang up. So that day Louis and Harry both got up on the top bunk of Louis’ bed and stuck a ton of glow in the dark stars on the ceiling. Harry slept over that night. Normally when Harry slept over, Harry would sleep on the top bunk and Louis would sleep on the bottom. 

But that night, they slept together in the top bunk. 

So, in Harry’s room, the day that Louis kind of screwed up and was maybe a little rude about Harry’s yellow walls, Louis immediately stopped filing through the CDs to walk over to Harry.

“Do you want to build a fort?” Louis asked.

“Where?”

“In here,” Louis said, trying to keep the duh from escaping his lips. They went to the bottom of Anne’s closet and fished out two big sheets and some blankets. Louis stole an extra pillow from Anne’s bed. 

He pulled the comforter off Harry’s bed, it was white and had black drawings of trains on it, and set the fort up so the sheets were balanced on the desk. While Harry went downstairs to get some snacks while Louis carefully arranged the comforter and pillows underneath it.

Harry returned with a flashlight and more pillows from the couch downstairs and the promised snacks. 

They sat under the soft glow of the evening sunlight bouncing off the light yellow walls and white sheets. Louis asked Harry what the school was like, not that he was nervous or anything. Harry was about to start Year 4, while Louis was in Year 5. And Harry didn’t know any Year 5 kids or teachers, so he wasn’t really sure what he could tell Louis about.

Harry instead opted to talk more about what lunch and recess was like. He told Louis that every Friday is pizza day and most people bring their own lunch all the other days. Louis told Harry that he isn’t sure that his mum would have time to make him a lunch because of the babies.

Anne came in shortly after that to check on the boys. She asked if Louis wanted to stay over tonight since it was taco night and she knew that Louis really loved tacos. She called his mum to get the okay and Louis slept over at Harry’s that night. 

They spent the whole night in the fort, playing songs and giggling. And Harry didn’t even cry once. They laid their heads on the same pillow, heavy eyes trying to draw them both into sleep. But eager laughs broke from their lips as they stayed awake much longer than they ever have before. 

Harry listened to Louis talk about his old school and this new purple sparkly notebook that his mum got for him for school. He talked about how he was gonna go back to school shopping and buy a new white pair of sneakers. 

Harry and Louis decided that night that they were going to take the bus together. The stop was right down the street, on the corner, near a stop sign. Harry got their first, wearing the blue jean pair of overalls, the bottom of his shorts rolled up twice because they were too long. There was a speck of the yellow paint on them. 

He told his mum that this year he would take on the responsibility of making his own lunches to bring. There were two paper bags in his hands. One for him. One for Louis. 

December 2002

It was almost Louis’ 11th birthday and Harry had to decide what to get him. Louis didn’t really have a ton of toys, he said because having babies was super expensive and his mum had two others. But Harry spent his time studying what Louis was interested in. 

He really loved Spider-Man. And pretended to groan when Harry tried to watch Disney princess movies with him. But when Harry looked over, he saw how much Louis was actually into the story. He even caught Louis singing songs from The Little Mermaid. 

You see, Louis would sometimes pretend to not be into that type of stuff, he called it. “Girly” stuff or “baby” stuff. But truthfully, he was. 

And Harry, being the observant young boy that he was, saw that when he brought out the Barbies to play with Lou’s superhero men, his bright blue eyes sparkled. He would play with Harry’s Barbies and have an even better time than when they were just in his room, playing with the army men. 

So, when Anne took Harry to the store, per his request, to get Louis a birthday and Christmas present, he walked through the aisles of the toy section with careful consideration of each board game, Lego set, and doll. He had a plan. 

Despite most people’s beliefs, Harry wasn’t incredibly naïve. He knew that his mum got looks when he was sick with the flu and carried a Barbie doll into the doctor’s office to hold while he waited to get medicine. And that one time when they had to go to the store because Anne had nothing to cook for dinner and six-year-old Harry had a hot-teared fit about wearing Gemma’s Cinderella princess dress from Halloween to the store. 

Anne was just trying to keep her kids happy and be supportive and let them know they were loved. When Harry got a look of confusion and disgust in the produce section, Anne explained to him that she would support him no matter what and that she was sorry that not all people were like that. 

So, the day of Louis Tomlinson’s 11th birthday, Harry had a plan. He arrived earlier than everyone else was scheduled to and promised to help blow up the green and yellow balloons that Louis picked out. He arrived with two presents. One, he told his friend, that he was going to put in Lou’s room. 

When he came back down, he and Louis sat on the floor of the living room with Lottie and blew up as many balloons as they could, often play fight with the balloons, smacking each other over the head with them with bursts of laughter flying from their lips.


End file.
